My son’s bike was stolen from our front yard. He was crushed. It was a cheap bike, but it was his freedom. I posted on the community Facebook page, just venting. An hour later, a teenager knocked on my door. He looked rough. Hood up, tattoos on his hands. He was pushing a bike. Not my son's bike. A better one. "I saw your post," he mumbled. "I... uh... I fix up bikes. This one is sitting in my garage. Your kid can have it." I looked at him. "Why?" He shrugged. "When I was little, someone stole my bike. I cried for a week. Nobody helped me. I don't want your kid to feel like that." He refused to take money. Later, I found out that kid has a record. People call him a trouble maker. To me, he’s a hero. Don't judge a book by its hoodie. 🙏